


One More Point of Contention

by mmmdraco



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-16
Updated: 2012-07-16
Packaged: 2017-11-10 02:45:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione enlists Ron and Draco to help with her with a Muggle Studies project.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One More Point of Contention

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are mine only in spirit and voice. Their "likenesses", names, categorizing features, favourite activities (other than the randiness I like to make them engage in), studies, teachers, friends, acquaintances, etc., etc., belong to J.K. Rowling and not me.

Ron Weasley, red-haired, tall, and a bit gangly, was happily picking his way through a bag of Bertie Botts' Every Flavour Beans in the Gryffindor common room when his life was disrupted by a pile of person knocking him and his Every Flavour Beans to the floor. "Hermione! I finally had them all sorted out between the ones I knew were gross, the ones I knew were good, and the ones I wasn't sure about!"

Hermione Granger, bright, knowing, and bushy-haired, her eyes flashing, pulled Ron to his feet as she stood. "But, Ron, you've got to help me. I have an assignment due for Muggle Studies tomorrow and I can't possibly do it without models! Will you help?"

Stuck in the middle of picking up what he was sure was a raspberry cheesecake-flavoured bean, Ron stammered momentarily before saying, "Sure, Hermione. Would you mind using that little clean-up spell you know, though?"

Searching briefly for her wand in its usual spot and not finding it, Hermione spoke up to say, "Here, Ron. Hold this." Ron was surprised when a spiral-bound sketchpad was thrust into his hands. Hermione was searching all of her pockets and finally said, "Ron. Have you seen my wand at all? I seem to have, er, misplaced it."

Ron looked down at the sketchpad and pulled something from the tube formed by the spiral. "Is this it?"

Grabbing her wand and banishing all of the Every Flavour Beans into the rubbish bin, Hermione jumped up excitedly. "Oh, Ron, I could kiss you!" Ron blushed.

"So, Hermione..." Said person was already dragging Ron out the portrait hole and down the hallway toward the Great Hall. "Hermione, what exactly am I helping you with?"

"I told you, Ron. Muggle Studies." She pulled on further.

Somehow, Ron knew better than to jump to conclusions about the situation, but he dared not ask anything because he'd never seen Hermione look so flustered before. He figured, also, that he might be expected to already know this information as he was fairly certain that Hermione had mentioned not having enough time for the assignment (as she'd decided to take up Muggle Studies again in her final year at Hogwarts), but he'd been playing wizarding chess with Seamus at the time. (Seamus might have won had he not dripped icecream on several of his pawns, then dropped his spoon on Ron's bishop... who later broke Seamus' king dragging him down.)

They reached the Great Hall and Hermione race in. She pouted frustratedly as she looked around for something. Ron cleared his throat and glanced around. "'Mione, what are we looking for?"

Hermione squinted as she looked down one of the other corridors leading to the Great Hall. "Oh, there he is. Come on, Malfoy!"

Ron raged quickly. "Malfoy? What are you on about, Hermione? What's this have to do with Muggle Studies, anyway?"

Draco Malfoy, the distinguished, but short, bane of Harry Potter and friends' existence, entered the Great Hall with an affected air of superiority. "Well, Granger. It seems you forgot to bring Potter along for your nightly threesome, complete with whipped cream."

"Malfoy..." she warned, brandishing her wand professionally. "Harry's got Quidditch practice at the moment, but I got Ron to come. Is that okay?"

Draco sneered up at Ron. "I suppose so. Let's get on with this."

"Er, Hermione, you still haven't quite explained this to me..." He felt Hermione push him forward.

"Be quiet, Ron. Just stand where I tell you to and don't move. I *have* to have this picture for tomorrow."

Ron nodded. That was okay, he supposed. After all, pictures were quick, even if you took them with a Muggle camera. He paused. "But, 'Mione, you don't have a..."

He looked and saw Hermione's sketchpad as she went on to moving Draco who looked annoyed at having Hermione touch him to do so. A vein in his neck pulsed slightly before he shouted, "Granger, get your Mudblood paws off me!"

"Why, you little!" Ron felt Hermione holding him back with all of her strength. "Why must you call her a Mudblood?" Ron seethed, but calmed briefly as he waited for Draco to answer, Hermione smoothing down his robes.

Draco wrinkled his nose slightly. "What am I supposed to call her, Weasley? She's not a pure-blood, a half-blood, a Muggle, or a Squib. Yet, she's a witch. Do *you* know any other words for someone who is magical, but comes from a bloody Muggle family?" Draco's cheeks were flushed prettily, but he looked proud about his response.

Ron was impressed with the clarity of the answer, but not the answer itself, so it didn't stop him from insulting Draco. "If anyone has mud for blood, it's you, Malfoy. There may not be another common term for a MUGGLE-BORN where you come from, but you could always call her, oh, by her name?!"

Blinking, Draco seemed to contemplate the ceiling for a moment before looking back at Ron. "Okay, Muggle-born. That's a whole syllable-more. Besides, I couldn't pronounce her name if I tried. Everyone says it a different way, and if I called her by her last name any more than I already do, it would seem terribly redundant."

Hermione broke in before Ron could say anything. "Draco, kindly shut up. Ron, don't mind him. I didn't grow up in a wizarding family, so that taunt has next to no affect on me. I just want to set up this pose and start drawing the two of you in a fighting stance. Please?"

Ron relented and allowed Hermione to push him back into place as she verbally directed Draco. When they were poised, fists ready, Hermione grabbed her wand and her sketch pad. "Okay. I'm going to put a very simple spell on you to make you guys into a tableau. You'll still be conscious of what you're doing and you can blink your eyes and wet your lips and such. But, don't try to speak as your lips themselves won't move."

They were ready when Hermione gathered her thoughts, but seemed to take a moment to recall the spell's words. Draco chuckled bitterly. "So, Weasley, how much is your girlfriend paying you for this? Two knuts? I hear your mother could feed You-Know-Who's army on that for three weeks after all that practice with all of you Weasleys. But, I suppose you're used to it..." Hermione finished reciting the spell, Silens statua, just as Ron pushed forward from his stance, Draco following, in long-honed attack skills... received from so many like fights against one another. Ron had leaned in close to Draco to yell at him, but his teeth knocked with Draco's own, and as they'd both learned the fine art of hair-pulling as children, they were tangled together like two lovers meeting for a quick tryst after a long, forced separation.

Hermione rushed forward. "Oh my... I didn't want this to happen. You're touching!"

Draco and Ron both tried to move, to speak, but they could only shift their eyes to one side and mumble; their tongues accidentally hitting so that they glared at each other momentarily before looking back, espectantly, at Hermione. "Er, see, the removal spell is different for single people than it is for any two-or-more persons joined together. I, um, don't quite know that one, so I'll just run to the library and be right back and have you... Malfoy, did you ever realize that you have beautiful cheekbones?"

Eyes wide, Draco tried to pull away, but nothing happened except that his eyes looked frantic and the words he was trying to say were lost to Ron's mouth.

Hermione had already grabbed her sketchpad and had a pencil to the paper, drawing rough shapes of the pair spell-locked together.

Ron did his best to stare Draco down, but realized that he just looked cross-eyed.

Draco was annoyed. His fingers were coiled in Ron's hair... which was surprisingly soft. If his hands weren't stuck in place with magic, they'd slip right through. "Right around Weasley's neck," he thought.

Ron was having similar problems. Draco's hair, for all that it was slicked with something non-greasy to keep it in place, felt good to hold. "Perfect for pulling," he couldn't help but think. Then, however, he noticed that Draco was also thinking. Draco had a tendency for the tip of his tongue to stick past his lips whenever he was concentrating on something difficult. The blonde boy has to be concentrating quite hard as the tip of his tongue had just touched Ron's. Glaring at him didn't seem to work, so Ron took a deep breath, and pushed Draco's tongue with his own.

Yelping, Draco looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his head. He calmed quickly as Hermione walked around them, sketching with a look of giddy adoration in her eyes. As Hermione leaned in close to see how Draco's hair fell around his ears, he got an evil look in his eyes and pushed his tongue against Ron's, pulling back and waiting for Ron to make the next move. Ron's eyes went wide again and he tackled Draco's tongue with his own. It was only a matter of moments before the motions were no longer teasing.

As they calmed down slightly, Ron began to notice the way Draco's breath was slightly cooler than his own, lazing gently in an exhale against his skin. His eyes were roaming the angles of Draco's face, and he could see the cool gray of Draco's eyes tracing the thin scar under his eye that he'd gotten playing Quidditch a few summers before with his brothers.

Neither of them noticed Hermione triumphantly finishing the drawing and running off, only to come back a few minutes later and shout, "Initium agito," in their direction. They fell against one another, their lips crushing together, continuing for a long moment before they truly noticed and pulled away sharply.

Hermione held up the drawing. "What do you think?" She watched as both Ron and Draco moved closer, each one reaching out to touch the edge of the picture which almost seemed enchanted to move, but seemed destined to be only a single frame of the motion.

Draco dropped his hand and took a step away. "Can I have a copy?"

Looking down at it, Hermione smiled, though she looked confused. "Certainly. I know you didn't exactly pose for this particular bit, but I'll give you your money anyway."

Clearing his throat, Draco shook his head. "No. Forget the money. It didn't take nearly so much time as I'd thought. Just a copy. That's all. I expect it in Potions tomorrow... the beginning of class, not the end." He looked at Ron quickly, then turned and walked out of the Great Hall.

Ron watched him leave, wanting to sneer at the boy... no, man. They weren't in first year anymore. It was almost time to leave the school. They were practically men now, anyway. Or, close enough. That thought, "close enough," echoed in his mind, so Ron didn't hear Hermione speaking to him until she was shaking his arm.

"Hello? Ron! Are you paying attention?"

"Huh? Oh. Sorry, Hermione. I was just thinking. What were you saying?"

"I asked if you wanted a copy, too."

Ron looked at the drawing, the way Draco's hair curled around his ears. "Yeah. I think I would. I really think I would."

It wasn't until the next morning in Potions that Ron allowed himself to think of Draco. Before that, he drowned out the thoughts by repeating nonsense phrases in his head, telling himself the order in which to do menial tasks like dunk a piece of sausage in egg yolk to eat for breakfast, and other like things. He kept his gaze on what he was doing at the moment, not the Slytherin table and a certain person who would be sitting there. He wasn't even watching the clock, so he almost didn't get up to leave the table, but Neville had... and tripped over his robe, kicking a bowl of oatmeal right in Colin Creevey's face. He apologized profusely, but ran off as soon as Colin (who'd hit a good few growth spurts in the past year or two) stood up.

Potions arrived and Hermione pulled two rolls of parchment from her bag. She handed one to Ron and rose from her seat, but Draco appeared in front of her with his hand out. Hermione raised her eyebrows, but placed the parchment copy of the picture in his hand which closed around the paper. "Thanks, Granger. For someone who buries her head in research books all day long, you draw rather well." Hermione blushed, but didn't say anything.

Draco moved on to Ron, passing Harry by without a word. "Weasley, can I talk to you out in the hall for a moment? I promise I'll make it worth your while."

Ron, though he heard Harry whisper to him, "Don't. You don't know what he'll do," consented with a shrug of his shoulders. He followed Draco into the hallway and leaned against the wall, one foot propped up, his arms behind him. Draco paced in front of him, seemingly thinking because the tip of his tongue was just visable.

Finally, Draco stopped and looked at him. "About last night..."

Blushing slightly, Ron held up his hand. "You don't have to say anything. It won't happen again."

Draco's face fell. "It won't?"

Ron drew his eyebrows up. "What? Did you *want* it to happen?"

A cough. Draco was clearing his throat. "Well, maybe not quite that, but I think... I think I need to explore this more. I mean, I know all the bits you can read about, I just haven't actually tried it all, and I figured since your tongue has already been in my mouth, then, if you're interested..."

"Wait... Are you a virgin, Malfoy?"

Draco paled. "Well, um... technically, yes, but what I lack in experience I more than make up for in knowledge, power, and, well, other things..."

Ron bit his lip and waited for Blaise Zabini to rush into the classroom as Draco glared at him as he came down the hallway. "So, um, what kind of things are you looking to do?"

"I haven't exactly made a lesson plan, Weasley. My former experience is mostly with girls, anyway. This is a very unnerving situation for me. But, I'm giving you an invitation. Are you going to RSVP or not?"

Laughing heartily, Ron brought his hands out in front of himself to clutch his stomach as he crouched down. "Oh, that was amusing."

Draco frowned. "It wasn't meant to be."

Ron looked up. "Well, good things happen in the least expected places, don't they?"

Smiling a little, Draco nodded.

Standing again, Ron nodded in return. "Okay, I'll do it. It's not like I won't benefit. I'm sort of virginal, too."

Draco snorted. "Sort of?"

Ron shrugged. "I grew up with five older brothers. With the exception of Percy, they've all deemed it necessary to tell me about the birds and the bees and all of their experiences. Percy, however, writes everything down in his journal. I mean *everything*. He had a threesome with Oliver Wood and Lee Jordan his last year here! And all about the proper way to put on a harness and such. He even had diagrams and addresses to stores, the best products to use and how to buy them in bulk for less."

Swallowing loudly, Draco smiled. "While I don't think I needed to know all of that, I'm a bit relieved. So, um, when do you think we should do this?"

"Er, I'd been thinking you were talking about now," Ron said, leaning back against the wall again.

"But, we've got Potions now. Our bags are already in there. Snape's *seen* us."

Eyebrow raised, Ron raised his chin in a challenge. "What, Malfoy? You've never broken any rules or contrived a little plan before?"

Draco looked interested, so Ron explained the plan that was brewing in his mind as he spoke. If nothing else, Ron was good at strategy. A moment later, Draco screamed and yelled out the words for a cleaning spell, then ran into the classroom. "Professor Snape, Weasley just threw up on my new shoes!"

Looking up from the book he was consulting, Snape snapped, "You're late, Draco."

Draco put on his best 'student' face. "It's simply because I was consulting Ron on how he shouldn't come to class looking as pale as he did. Then, he turned a bit green--a horrible combination with that hair of his--and then he threw up on me. He says I'm not to be the one to take him to Madame Pomfrey, but he looks ready to go again." In the hallway, Ron made a retching noise, paused, then groaned loudly and miserably.

Snape grimaced. "Get his things and make sure he gets to Madame Pomfrey's."

Trying his best not to grin, Draco gathered his own things in his usual casual manner, then got Ron's things from next to a scowling Harry Potter in a messy grab. He was out the door before Snape could finish muttering, "Weasleys. I *hate* Weasleys," under his breath.

Once in the hallway, Ron grabbed his things from Draco and grinned widely. "What did I tell you?"

Laughing with a slightly controlled volume, Draco paused to ask, "Where are we going to do this, anyway? I don't fancy a snog in the showers or the dorms, but classes *are* going on..." He was suddenly muffled and silenced by Ron's hand over his mouth.

"Well, Percy said the walk-in freezer is great, but I'd rather not freeze my balls off. Bill said the broom shed was good, but there are too many," and here Ron stopped to shudder, "spiders. Same with the Forbidden Forest... Say, Malfoy, fancy a shag under the Whomping Willow? Wait, no, too many bones down there... Oh! I can't believe I didn't think of it! The Astronomy tower."

Draco looked perplexed. "But, classes..."

Ron shook his head. "Not in the tower, they're not. This is when Ginny has Astronomy theory and her class petitioned to meet in the Great Hall except for labs, but those are late at night. It's two o'clock in the afternoon, and not a single star in sight. Work for you, Malfoy?"

"I'll lead the way!" Draco took off at a great pace, Ron trailing behind for only a moment.

They reached the tower in only a few minutes and Ron snuck up to the door. "Just in case," he whispered. He listened for a moment, then turned the doorknob slightly and pushed it, inspecting the revealed room. He let out a puff of air when the room was shown to be, indeed, empty.

Draco went in first, looked around, then grinned. He grabbed Ron by the front of the robes and pulled him into the room. The door shut, a locking spell issued, and Ron right in front of him, Draco lunged forward and kissed blindly, hands already making quick work of the buttons on Ron's robe. "Malfoy." Ron paused. "Malfoy!" When Draco paused, Ron spoke again. "I sort of figured I'd ask how far you want to go."

Draco blushed. "Well, all the way would be nice, but I guess just until we want to stop. Er, would that be okay with you?"

Nodding, Ron undid the last button of his robe and let it fall to his feet. Draco made no comment about the burgandy sweater and khaki trousers that were revealed. He only unbuttoned his own robe to show his midnight blue stovepipe trousers, a white dress shirt, and a blue-gray sweatervest. Ron cocked a grin at the view. "Nice."

Draco stood up taller. "I'll let you know if I can say the same for you when we're shy a bit more clothing."

Ron smirked, looking down at the floor as though a challenge had been issued. With a determined smile, he toed off his shoes and peeled off his socks, then slid his sweater up over his head, took time to slowly slide his belt through the loops on his pants to cast it off to the side, then rested his hands on the top of his knakis, toying playfully with the button at the top of the closure. "Aren't you going to join me, Malfoy? This is hardly an activity best done by one's self."

Draco was down to his own pants before Ron had fully stepped out of his. His movements were hurried, lusty, in comparison with Ron's seductive, amateur striptease.

Down to their respective choices of underwear--Draco in loose black silk boxers witha scrollwork pattern, Ron in gray cotton boxer briefs bearing the logo for "Fruit of the Wand" in a pattern on the waistband--they eyed one another. Somehow, they non-verbally agreed to proceed. Ron gingerly took a step forward and placed his hands on Draco's shoulders. Draco let his hands move to Ron's waist. Beginning to lean in, they watched each other carefully, watily. But as soon as their lips touched, all plans to be careful and take things one step at a time flew out the window faster than Harry Potter after the Golden Snitch.

Their kisses were heated, hands exploring planes of flesh that glamed torrid in the hints of day that slipped through the shaded windows to dance like faeries over their skin. Caught up in such a slight of fancy, their hands moved to do things which minds were thinking of doing, but conscious thought would normally prevent. Hands were tracing patterns that would forever be remembered in a phantom touch. Lips were kissing vitalities that would make bared throats, chests almost visably thrumming with desire, every fingetip smoothed across a warm surface... It was a night of memories morne of lust destined to be recalled by those simple things--innocent touches could ignite burning desire.

Draco pulled away for a moment, panting as one of Ron's hands roamed along his chest, the other placing glancing caresses a good bit lower. "Should... oh, fuck. Tell me to stop. Tell me before I do something that'll make you regret this."

Ron, never pulling his hands away, kissed Draco deeply. "There's only one thing that'll make me regret this and that's if we don't do more. Please?"

Moaning, Draco bit his lip and nodded in understanding. "Do you... do you have anything?"

Ron faltered momentarily. "You're a guy. I can't... I can't get you pregnant and we're both virgins, so..."

The blonde man cleared his throat. "No, um, I meant, well, lube. Y'know..."

Laughing throatily, Ron smiled, his eyes passion-dark. "If that's what you're worried about, don't be. Duys sort of produce their own, you know?"

Draco looked surprised, but didn't say anything until he felt exactly what Ron meant, the other man pressed against him in the most intimate of places. He gasped in a breath, then heard Ron's voice, lower than he was used to hearing, but definitely something *good*, whispering in his ear. "It's easier if you relax and push back against it. Realize that this is going to be the best thing you've ever done."

Ron then began doing things to Draco's neck that made him essentially lose control of everything. Next thing he knew, his body was spasming slightly and Ron was nestled deep within him, pulsing, brushing things that were obviously meant to be brushed like this. And, somehow, he didn't remember ever laying back on the floor, but that's where he was. "Oh, fuck--Ron..."

Looking shocked, Ron pulled back a bit, nearly withdrawing from Draco, who whimpered. "What? You just... that was my first name!"

Draco chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. "I sort of thought, y'know, after this... I didn't even mean to, but I... I like it."

Ron grinned in approval and pushed back in slowly, earning a gasp from Draco. "Well, good... Draco."

Arching his back a bit, Draco wrinkled his nose. "What? Are you just going to stay there? I'm the one with my back on a stone floor. Get to it?"

As part of a family of constant organized chaos, Ron knew when to take orders seriously. Within moments, his hips were thrusting against Draco at a page equal to 101 vigorous stirs in a cauldron. Draco was clutching at him with sharp fingernails, surley leaving the impressions and scrapes like a map of his experience, much like unconsciously playing connect the dots with the spare freckles on Ron's shoulders.

The pair were rocking and arching to meet one another's movements, their entire beings focused on the give and take and the thrilling sensations which welled up within them.

Draco was almost ready to go. His limbs were aching slightly from the way he tried to mold his body for more contact. He was pink with exertion, slightly sweaty, and as close as he could be to Ron. When Ron's hand went from soft caresses to firm stroking on his hardened member, Draco bit down on Ron's shoulder as he cried out in relief. A moment later, after Ron rammed into him at a pace not unlike the charmed pistons on the Hogwarts Express, they cried out in release together until they could merely collapse against one another, hands still exploring and lips still joining.

Draco took a deep breath and leaned into Ron's firm embrace as Ron adjusted himself enough to pull out from Draco's depths. "So, what are we going to do tomorrow? And later today? That was fun, by the way."

Ron trailed his fingers in meandering lines up Draco's back, making the smalled man shiver. "I suppose we should start being civil, shouldn't we." It wasn't a question, and they both knew it.

"Everyone will ask questions."

"We'll tell them to bugger off. I think we're both pretty good at that."

"And if Potter or Granger ask?"

Ron chewed his lip for a moment. "Well, if Potter, I mean, Harry, asks, he'll just have to not know. Hermione, well, I wouldn't be surprised if she somehow knows. She's figured out with of my brothers are gay... some of them before I knew and I *live* with them! I swear, when she told me about walking in on Percy and Neville Longbottom..."

Draco quickly cut that vein of conversation. "So, we'll manage. Right?"

Ron nodded. "Somehow. And, you'll have to see if you can book the Quidditch field one day and cencel practice just before. We could try it on broomstick!"

"I think I just did." Laughing, Draco turned to one side, then stopped his laughter in favor of some mild cursing. "Oh, damn. I'm going to be sore for the next few days. This floor plays hell with your bones."

They stayed to bask in the afterglow for a bit, then got dressed. Draco escorted Ron to his dorm (walking away momentarily to allow Ron to whisper the password) and they shared a sweet kiss, complete with entwined fingers, before Ron shyly waved goodbye and climbed backward into the portrait hole, not even surprised to find the common room empty. Twenty minutes later, when Harry and Hermione entered, Ron was playing a game of wizarding chess against Crookshanks... who appeared to be winning and had just taken Ron's queen. "Damn it, Crookshanks! You're cheating, aren't you?"

Hermione ran up behind Ron and put her arms around his neck. He'd been so focused on the game (nevermind that he was playing against a cat who played better than the rest of Gryffindor combined) that he hadn't noticed that anyone had entered the room. When Hermione grabbed him around the neck, he flew backward against her and knocked the chess board off the table. Crookshanks batted a fallen pawn between his paws and chased it as it tried to get away. Once he caught it, he gave it a good chew, then trotted off, leaving the pawn crying. Hermione still had her arms firmly around Ron's neck. "Oh, Ron! We went to Madame Pomfrey's after class and you weren't there and we were so worried!"

Harry took a seat on the couch next to Hermione. "Did Malfoy try to do anything to you?"

Ron pushed Hermione away slightly. "'Mione, please. Air!" She let go and sat next to him as he took a moment to adjust his collar. "All he did was try to talk me into going to the infirmary. But, I just needed to take a nap. I think I just ate too much sausage this morning and it didn't agree with the pickled newts that Snape had out in Potions. Malfoy called me into the hall to yell at me that I shouldn't come to class looking so sick. I felt ill right then, so, blech. Right on his shoes. It was worth it."

Harry smiled. "Good. The git deserved it."

Ron shrugged. "So... he's infuriating and his father's a beast. Dumbledore lets him stay here, so he can't be dangerous."

"But, Ron, we all hate Malfoy." Harry looked supremely confused.

"Well, maybe hate's too strong a word. I don't like his father or a lot of what he does, but he can't be *that* bad. He's not his father, Harry. Draco is *not* Lucius Malfoy and I don't think he could be if he tried. Look at him... He's so worried about Quidditch and hoping that Hagrid lets him pass Care of Magical Creatures that he can't focus on becoming You-Know-Who's right hand man. He's got Crabbe and Goyle for *friends*. That's downright charitable of him!"

Hermione sat, her lips pursed. "Ron's right, Harry. You know you were supposed to be the one in that picture with him and he supposed hates you more than anyone."

Harry muttered, "How comforting."

"I only asked and offered five knuts. He said, 'Well, so long as you're offering," and then, in the end, he didn't even take the money and I'd even messed up the spell. Maybe we just don't know the real Draco Malfoy. Maybe... maybe his father makes him act like that. You don't know, Harry. *We* don't."

Harry looked down at his folded hands. "I... I suppose that's possible. We... we could give him another chance, I guess. After all, Gryffindors can make friends with Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. We can make friends with Slytherins, too. Right?"

Blinking at Harry's display, Ron shrugged and turned away slightly. "I'm just saying... if we were more civil to him, he might be more civil to us."

"But, we shouldn't have to be civil first!"

"Harry, Harry... that's not a Gryffindor attitude at all. Draco's the suspicious one raised by monsterous wizards. We have to extend this hand of friendship if we want it. Besides, Draco obviously wants to be friends with you."

Harry blinked wildly, but seemed to remember his first two encounters with Draco. "Well, maybe... and you keep calling him Draco..."

Ron shrugged. "You've got to start somewhere." He smiled. "I suppose a name is just about as good as anything else."


End file.
